


A Day Away

by WaywardPhantom



Category: The Stanley Parable
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6532885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaywardPhantom/pseuds/WaywardPhantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stanley wants a day off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day Away

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on my phone and without a beta, I apologize for any mistakes!
> 
> I hope you guys like my first fic!

_This is the story of a man named Stanley._   
_Stanley-_

  
"Wait, Stanley what are you doing?" The Narrator leaned closer to his monitor, squinting down at his protagonist. "Stanley, can we not just run the sequence properly for once? You haven't even found all the endings yet. I, I don't understand what that gesture means, Stanley." With a sigh The Narrator shifted and messed with some papers, checking over the scripts. "This is all very original of you, but there is no choice to be made in here, aside from the door- But you've already played that in run 6. Ah-"

  
_Stanley got up from his desk and stepped out of his office._

  
"See, isn't this nice? Off on a new adventure! A story unfolding before your eyes- what are you doing? These computers won't do anything you know. Do you want something from them? If you want to know what happened to your coworkers, just follow the story Stanley. Stanley are you listening to me?"  
Said man was sitting at a desk in the room outside of his office, messing with a computer. Despite his button pressing and clicking, nothing happened. He motioned to the screen, obviously upset as he frowned up at the ceiling. The narrator supposed this pout was aimed at him.   
"What are you hoping to achieve here? I already told you the computer won't work. This is pointless, Stanley. Let us get on with the plot. I do have a magnificent story written out for you, if you would just follow it." He grumbled, watching the mute man rummage around in his previously neatly arranged- but not too organized- office building. Honestly Stanley had no appreciation for aesthetic or world building. Did he care how long he had worked on this? Or did he just want to ruin it? The Narrator suspected it was the latter. Perhaps he choose a protagonist with a little too much free will.   
Breaking out of his sulk, he realized Stanley was writing. He'd found some blank paper to go along with the pens that were scattered about the desks. The Narrator had to admit he was slightly impressed by Stanley's ambition. Had he inspired him to write his own story or-   
"Oh. This is a note for me?" Unable to keep the disappointment out his voice, he peered down at the monitor. Stanley was holding the piece paper up towards the ceiling, with the obvious hope that the Narrator could read it.   
"You want to communicate with me? We communicate through choices, what paths you take, not literal conversation-" Stanley started scribbling on the paper again. "Why would you want to talk to me? You can't possibly have notes or- what's this?"  
Stanley held the sign a little higher, unsure how this communicating with disembodied voices thing really worked. But his sign was legible and clear and extremely reasonable, he thought.

He wanted a day off.

He deserved it. He'd played the game, he'd done it the Narrators way before he realized he had a choice in the matter, then he'd played his own way. And honestly now it was getting a bit old. He wanted a vacation.   
The silence he was receiving, however, wasn't very comforting. Stanley knew the Narrator wasn't exactly accommodating to his feelings, not understanding of them, but he had expected something more than the cold shoulder. That if it was going to be a no it would be as condescending and blunt as usual, not some strange punishment. No, this was just unfair this was- this was just-  
"Alright."  
Wait. What? Stanley stared up at the ceiling in slight shock.   
"Now don't give me that look, do you really think I'm that cruel? We have a story to run, yes. And the story we will tell. But there's also something I've been wanting to try for a while now, some new endings. And with you out there's no one to stop me from writing them. Watching over you is very troubling, Stanley, and at times it gets in the way of true creativity. So a vacation it is. Not a very long one, mind you, more of a day off. Yes, a day is all that it will take to get this running!" The excitement was barely contained in the omnipotent beings voice, Stanley could barely help but feel invigorated himself. It was only a day before he was thrown back here, yes, but a day was all he needed. He couldn't exactly stop himself from being curious about the adjustments his sole companion would make in his absence either. What more could there be?

  
\--

  
His answer had been reluctant, yes, but his game had been in beta for far too long. It was time for an upgrade, one he was sure even Stanley could appreciate. They would move past this limiting number of endings to so many more. If anything Stanley would appreciate a few more unlocked doors. So a day off it was. But where could he put Stanley? Where would the lone employee go? He didn't have any other maps made up, really. Well, he could put him in that dinky apartment he had made. That would have to do. It was away from the office and a different environment for Stanley to relax in.   
He watched the man start folding his papers together, obviously planning on talking some more later. The Narrator couldn't help but smile, if only a little.  
"Stanley, how do you feel about a day at home? A bed, radio, a nice couch, as well as food and drink. Does that sound like a good day off?"  
Stanley considered it for a moment, maybe he had gotten his hopes up too high. But the radio did sound nice, so did the bed. After just a slight pause, he nodded firmly. Maybe, just maybe, if this went well he could get regular vacation days.

  
\-----

_  
Stanley found himself in a small apartment. It was decently sized, a good washroom, a bedroom, a living room and a cozy kitchen adjacent to it. By the way everything was situated Stanley knew he was home._

"See? Isn't that wonderful Stanley, exactly as you would like it. Can't say I agree exactly with your taste in drapery, but this is where you get to squander your day off, not me. I do hope you like it."  
The worker moved around the living room carefully, messing with a few knickknacks as he made his way to the couch. Plopping down onto the sofa, he casted a questioning gaze to the ceiling.   
"Ah- yes, I will be leaving you shortly. Plenty of work to do crafting a better story. One you hopefully can't ruin." The Narrators tone shifted to a sulk towards the end, Stanley could have sworn he heard the tapping of fingers.   
"Pick up that phone over by the fridge if you get sick of this place. I know I would. Goodbye, Stanley."  
Then there was silence, blissful silence. Stanley smiled to himself, this was exactly what he wanted. No Narrator, no game, no choices.

Of course, that only lasted for the first hour or so. Laying on the couch eating real food was an amazing shift from vending machine snacks and coffee from the break room and other dedicated places, but one could only lounge around for so long. This prompted Stanley to explore his apartment a little more. The radio in the living room seemed to be in working order, but Stanley wasn't quite sure he was ready to hear radio announcers talking at him, he had just gotten rid of one voice, he didn't need another.   
The kitchen was well stocked, it had everything one would expect. There wasn't much entertainment to be found there.  
The bedroom was the same, a full sized bed, a dresser and closet- both filled with the same clothes he was wearing now, plus a few pairs of pajamas.   
Stanley wasn't sure what he had been expecting out of this apartment, but it sure wasn't boredom. The only thing of note was the distinct lack of books. He wasn't sure if this was an oversight or if the Narrator truly thought he was an illiterate idiot.   
With a sigh, Stanley flipped on the radio and placed himself on the couch once more.   
The music was a wonderful change. All different sorts floating through the small space, making Stanley feel less alone. The mute man was often left feeling all alone, the only human left in an empty world. Often he found himself wondering if the world even existed outside of his building. Every window he had access to just showed a stark white nothingness, as if the outside didn't exist and he was the only blemish on a blank canvas. The only time he saw anything resembling the outdoors was the Freedom Ending. But even that wasn't for long. A step too far away from the office building ensured a restart- a nauseating feeling before he woke to find himself in his office.

  
\-----

  
Whilst Stanley was contemplating his existence, the Narrator was working, as usual.   
His office was now littered with crumpled papers as he edited new scripts and floor plans, constantly muttering to himself. He knew that if he'd left his mic on Stanley would be giving him one of those pointed looks by now. The thought made him chuckle, pencil moving easily over the page as he jotted down more ideas.   
Stanley would love these new endings, it would give him so much more to do. Maybe then he would find it in himself to play correctly every once in a while. Not sit in broom closets or loiter in the break room.

  
\-----

  
Stanley loved the music, he was going to take this little radio with him, even if he had to smuggle it into his office. Or maybe the Narrator would just let him take it. If Stanley played his cards right the voice might even take it as a complement that he loved a piece of his game so much. No matter what he was keeping this radio.  
These feelings of love was slightly shaken when the music abruptly turned off. Slowly sitting up from where he had been laying on the couch, Stanley stared at the small box in dismay- had he broken it some how? He hadn't meant to, he really hasn't this time! His panic and sorrow was cut short by a crisply accented voice coming through the speakers.   
"Stanley, are you there? I'm sorry if I startled you, but I have a few questions. Go pick up the phone in the kitchen."   
Mood now completely ruined, he trudged over to the phone wondering how exactly he was expected to answer.   
The moment he pressed the receiver to his ear, the babbling commenced.   
"How this is going to work is when I ask a question you're going to tap the mic once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand?"  
Stanley rolled his eyes and tapped the phone once.   
"Wonderful! Now, please answer all these questions honestly." The Narrator cleared his throat, and Stanley could have sworn he heard the phone shifting over fabric.   
"Now, Stanley, do you like the current endings?" Stanley opted not to respond. After a brief pause, the Narrator continued, already sounding defeated. "Right, of course. Moving on... Is the office building to your liking?" Stanley shrugged, then tapped the phone once. "How do you like your office? Do you think it's look is the one we're going for here?" Stanley tapped the phone twice. "I agree, I think we should get you a real computer, Stanley. That thing in there now just isn't right.. Any other comments on the decor of the office?" Stanley tapped out another no. "Alright then, seeing as everything else has to be left for the player to discover- I think that's all I need from you. Or are you finished playing vacation and willing to come back already?"  
The business man glanced over his shoulder at the radio. How was he supposed to communicate his want to take his new companion with him if the Narrator couldn't even be bothered to look at him right now?

Stanley hung up the phone. That was a sure way to piss off anyone and he was certain the Narrator would pop in for a visit to yell at him soon enough. So, he picked up his little radio, sat on the couch, and waited.   
Sure enough the familiar voice soon boomed through the small space.  
"Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you. I could just create a new protagonist, one who's smarter and knows better than to hang up in the middle of phone calls- what's that smile for? Stanley, have you gone mad? Why are you holding the radio- what do you want to bring it back to the office? Is that really what this is all about? I have to say, I am disappointed. Though maybe I shouldn't have expected any more than this." The Narrator sounded exasperated and that made Stanley all the merrier. Well that and the disembodied voice had understood his wants almost immediately, no strange charades needed to convey the idea.   
"I'm glad you liked the radio that much, Stanley, I really am. But does that really fit the effect we're going with? The office is supposed to be silent, aside from us that is. It's meant to enforce the idea of your coworkers mysterious disappearance. How would a radio fit into that, Stanley?" He paused, noting the devastation on his protagonists face. The small man was staring at the radio helplessly, running his thumb over the smooth surface with a sadness that was surprising to the omnipresent being. He hadn't seen Stanley look that sullen before. Depressed, yes. Unsatisfied, sure. This was new. "You can't be that attached to this little box... Come now, Stanley." When the character showed no response, the Narrator sighed heavily. "... Perhaps we could place it in your office? On top of one of the filling cabinets. It does have to look like you spend time in there. Though it goes against your image of being glued to the screen of your computer, it would make you seem more human. More relatable to the player." The way Stanley's face lit up almost melted the Narrators heart. He could do this for Stanley. Yes he most certainly could.   
"Does this mean you're ready to come back to the office? You're done milling around here?"  
Stanley nodded slowly. He didn't want to return to his repetitive life but he had no other choice. Holding the radio close to his chest he stood up and made his way to the door, ready for the disorienting feeling of being teleported from map to map.   
The blackness hit him like a brick wall.   
When Stanley regained consciousness he was back in his office. The room had changed since he'd last seen it. It looked more like he expected an office should, a real desktop was set on a wooden desk in front of him and behind him were many filling cabinets. Swiveling in his brand new rolling chair Stanley spotted his radio sitting exactly where the Narrator had said it would be. Smiling softly, Stanley turned to face his desk sitting in position for the start of the game.   
Maybe his Narrator wasn't all that bad.

  
_This is the story of a man named Stanley._


End file.
